


To Be Alone

by MomtherSeries



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Gore, Other, Piglin culture, Sick Technoblade, Sickfic, based on mine-sara-sp's piglin fam au on tumblr, bold text is the piglin language, mild violence, piglin fam, someone does get thrown out the window at some point so heads up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:54:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28196478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MomtherSeries/pseuds/MomtherSeries
Summary: Technoblade didn’t get sick.He didn’t get the sniffles, he didn’t get stomach bugs, he didn’t get sick.Yet, here Technoblade was, in the nether with a terrible fever and surrounded by people who were not his family but were most definitely trying to take care of him.Or;Techno is much to stubborn for his own good. Shenanigans ensue, and a family is gained.(Based on @mine-sara-sp 's piglin fam au on Tumblr)
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit & Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Comments: 34
Kudos: 837





	To Be Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up, there is violence, mention of vomiting and other general illness things. It's mostly fluff and h/c, but I can't help myself with angst :D
> 
> Also, bold text when characters are speaking means the character is speaking in piglin. When the pigeons speak I tried to only convey what the listener would understand. In Techno's case it's broken and choppy because his understanding is limited. In Phil's case he can understand a little bit more.

Technoblade didn’t get sick. 

He didn’t get the sniffles, he didn’t get stomach bugs, he didn’t  _ get _ sick. 

When his family caught a nasty flu two years ago that left them feverish and unable to leave their beds, it was Techno who took care of them. It was Techno that rubbed Tommy’s back as he vomited, and it was Techno who soothed Wilbur’s feverish rambling of fire and unfinished symphonies. It was Techno who carried Phil back to bed when he found him sleeping at the kitchen table when trying to make them all a meal, despite being sick himself. Techno, of course, knew that they would treat him the same way if he ever was to get sick. However, and Techno couldn’t stress this enough, he didn’t get sick. 

So on a calm November morning, when Techno awoke to a slightly foggy head and chills, he wrote it off as an unfortunate side effect of staying up too late and got ready for his day. It was very early when he awoke, no one in the small cottage being awake yet. He knew Phil would rise in a few hours, always waking with the sun. Tommy would be up shortly after, the smell of breakfast always waking him. Wilbur was either awake all night and would join them, or he would be dead to the world until nine or ten in the morning, only being woken when Phil decided Wilbur needed to stop messing up his sleep schedule. Techno usually woke before everyone, dressed and ready to help Phil when he started breakfast. 

Today, however, he was awake much earlier than normal. The sun wouldn’t rise for a few hours more, and Techno wanted to go to the Nether. He wasn’t planning on starting so early, but figured that he might as well take advantage of the time. He stumbled to the kitchen (everyone was heavy sleepers) and decided he wasn’t terribly hungry, pouring himself a bowl of sugary cereal. He got about two bites in before deciding he wasn’t hungry at all, and left the bowl on the kitchen table. There was no milk in it, so it wouldn’t go soggy, and Phil would probably think it was one of Wilbur's midnight snacks and make him finish it. A perfect plan. 

Techno heaved himself up onto his feet and tucked the chair in behind him, feeling exhausted. He could go back to sleep, but Techno really knew he should go to the Nether. Techno grabbed his signature red cloak from the front hall closet, swinging it over his shoulders and attaching the clasps at the front. It was strange how heavy it felt today. It wasn’t weighed down with guilt or the blood of his enemies or anything poetic like that, but it felt exhausting to wear. Techno adjusted it anyways, shifted the crown on his head so it was centred, and sighed, checking his inventory before heading out. 

His head throbbed softly as he left the house and made his way down the cobbled path, taking a right to go to the structure that housed the Nether portal. Techno stumbled over his own feet more than he would like to admit but made it to the portal unscathed. 

Sighing, Techno entered the building, the portal making itself known with loud noises. The glossy sheen of the purple made his eyes hurt and his head yell, causing Techno to squint. What was wrong with him? Rubbing his eyes, Techno stared at his reflection in the portal for a moment before stepping in, the familiar tug of jumping dimensions making his stomach swirl. Stumbling off the obsidian and into the heat of the Nether, Techno was knocked to his knees by the overwhelming sensations. 

“What the fuck?” He mumbled to himself, pushing himself off the ground and onto his feet. 

It was then that Techno caught sight of something very, very strange. Rolling up his sleeves, Techno stared blankly at the small green patches of skin that covered his forearms. 

“Oh,” Technoblade said, exhausted. “This can’t be good.” 

Fully entranced by the green splotches on his arms, Techno didn’t even notice the large shadow that loomed over him. Slowly turning his gaze upwards, Techno found himself staring at the chest of a very large, very brutish piglin. Brain scrambling, Techno clumsily reached for his sword but was stopped when the piglin grabbed his arm. The sword was ripped from its sheath and tossed aside, the clatter of diamond on stone making Techno wince.

“You can’t kill me,” Techno said, words and vision slurring as he pulled out a pickaxe. “Technoblade never dies.” 

The piglin grunted, and Technoblade found himself being picked up, unable to do anything about it. 

“ **Sick.** ” The piglin grunted in its native language, holding Techno under his armpits so he was level to his eyes. 

“Huh?” Techno said, furrowing his brows together in confusion. “No, I don’t get sick.”

“ **Sick.** ” The brutish piglin said again, shaking Techno softly. A few other words were spoken, but Techno couldn’t wrap his head around them. It had been so long since he had spoken piglin that he couldn’t remember it. 

“ **No sick.** ” Techno insisted, pausing between each word to remember how it was said. 

The piglin snorted (was it laughing at him?) and tossed Techno over its shoulder, making Techno’s stomach swirl dangerously. The golden crown on his head tumbled to the ground, and the harsh noise was the last straw, Technoblade losing his battle and vomiting over the shoulder of the piglin. 

“ **Sick.** ” The piglin said, slightly amused. Techno groaned in response, submitting himself to his fate. 

“Well, I guess this is my life now.” Techno mumbled, the taste of ash and vomit strong in his mouth.

\---

Phil woke when the sun filtered through his window, as he often did. He could hear soft shuffling downstairs, and stretched, his wings and arms spread. 

_ Techno must already be awake. _ He thought to himself, pushing himself out of bed. He smoothed the covers down and turned to his closet, grabbing a robe to throw over his boxers. He left the room, peaking into Tommy’s room to hear the teen snoring, and then continued to the kitchen. 

“Wilbur? Good morning.” Phil said, a little surprised to see the young adult awake so early. He could’ve sworn it was Techno up and about. He never slept in. 

“Good morning,” Wilbur said, a little disheveled. His curly hair was everywhere, and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, pushing his glasses askew. 

“You’re up early.” Phil commented, putting the kettle on. He grabbed four mugs, putting hot chocolate powder in one and tea bags in two of them before scooping coffee into his french press. 

“Yeah,” Wilbur frowned, starting a mostly full cereal bowl on the table. “Techno was really loud this morning and woke me up.”

“Oh?” Phil commented, pouring a splash of milk into his coffee mug and Tommy’s hot chocolate. “He’s usually pretty quiet, what time did he wake you?” 

“Around three,” Wilbur picked up the bowl and stared into it. “Is this my cereal? I don’t remember pouring it.” 

“Is there milk in it?” Phil asked, removing the kettle from the stove and pouring water into the mugs and the french press. 

“No.” Wilbur sighed. “Must be mine, Techno always has milk in his.” 

Phil hummed and set a timer for his coffee, opening the fridge to grab some eggs. He heard Tommy wake up by falling out of bed, a muffled curse making its way to the kitchen. The curse was followed by Tommy himself, wandering to the kitchen, swaddled in his comforter. 

“Good morning,” Philza said, and Wilbur nodded to Tommy. 

“Hey.” Tommy said, sitting at the island and placing his head on the counter, groaning. “Is Techno here? I need to yell at him.”

“I haven’t seen him yet,” Phil said at the same time Wilbur said: 

“Why?”

“He woke me up at, like, three am. I’m fucking exausted.” Tommy muttered, pulling the comforter over his head. 

“Oh, that's when he woke me up too.” Wilbur said, pulling out his communicator to send a text. 

“It seems I’m the only one not woken by him.” Phil said, filtering the coarse coffee and pouring the liquid in his cup. He handed Tommy and Wilbur their mugs, Wilbur muttering a thanks while staring at his communicator with a concerned look on his face. Techno's mug sat on the counter, steaming. 

“He’s not responding to my texts.” Wilbur said, sipping his tea. 

“Maybe he’s training?” Phil said. It wasn’t unusual. 

“Only if he’s training to have the heaviest footsteps possible.” Tommy said, emerging from his cocoon to snag the hot chocolate mug. “Oh wait, he’s a pro at that already. So not poggers.” 

“C’mon now Tommy,” Phil said, trying to hide the worry in his voice. Techno was one of the quietest people he knew. “You know Techno wouldn’t have purposely woken you.”

“So he did it on purpose!” Tommy snarled, slamming his fist onto the island counter. Phil shushed him, cracking some eggs into a pan. 

“How do you boys want your eggs?” Phil asked. 

“Scrambled,” Tommy replied. 

“Fuck,” Wilbur said, staring at his communicator with wide eyes.

“That's not a way to cook eggs,” Tommy said, smirking to himself.

“Wilbur?” Phil asked. “What's wrong?” 

“Look,” He said, holding his communicator out for Philza to see. 

**[ Private Conversation with: WilburSoot, Technoblade ]**

**[ 7:02 AM ] WilburSoot:** _hey where are you?_

**[ 7:03 AM ]** **WilburSoot:** _I know youre awake, you woke tommy and i up at 3 am_

**[ 7: 08 AM ] Technoblade:** _ne;teh r_

**[ 7:08 AM ] WilburSoot:** _what?_

**[ 7:10 AM ] Technoblade:** _ne_

**[ 7:10 AM ] Technoblade:** _gether_

**[ 7:11 AM] Technoblade:** _piglims gto me_

**[ 7:11 AM ] WilburSoot:** _tech send me your coords_

**[ 7:12 AM ] WilburSoot:** _techno????_

Philza also paled upon seeing the texts. Techno had never been so disorganized in his writing, taking great pride in his handle of the language.

“What’s going on?” Tommy asked, his head emerging from his blankets.

“We’re skipping breakfast. Suit up, we’re going to the Nether.”

\---

Techno wasn’t sure where he was, just that he was warm. He felt a little stifled by it, the heat making him sweat. He begrudgingly opened his eyes, blackstone surrounding his vision. 

“Hm?” Techno sat up slowly, carefully not upsetting his head or stomach. He wasn’t at his old, not-so-secret base near L’Manberg, and he couldn’t wrap his head around where else there would be blackstone. 

“Phil?” He called out groggily, pushing himself from the nest of wool blankets. He crashed into a wall, groaning and making it a few steps further before sliding to the ground. “Phil?” 

“Technoblade never gets sick,” He muttered to himself, staring at his shaking hands. The green had spread, and Techno hurriedly removed his gaze.

“ **Up?** ” An unfamiliar piglin spoke, rounding the corner and staring Techno down. Techno stared at it in confusion. He could’ve sworn the piglin that snagged him was larger. 

“ **No up.”** Another snort, and Techno turned his head, seeing the brute piglin from earlier. A few more snorts and squeals were made, but Techno didn’t understand what they were saying. He had left the nether at such a young age he didn’t have a firm grasp on the language. The piglins were staring at him, as if expecting an answer. 

“ **Sick.”** The brute piglin pointed at Techno, simplifying its language. “ **No up.”**

He picked Techno up again, and carefully wrapped him in the blankets. Techno struggled to remove them.

“No, no! I have to go-  **go home,** I need to go! I’m  **no sick** , let me  **go!** ” Techno snarled at the brute piglin, trying (and failing) to escape his blanket prison. The regular sized piglin sighed, walking over to Techno and patting him on the head. 

“ **You home. No scared.** ” The piglin smiled, it’s tusks gleaming in the dull, nether light. Techno scowled, hoping to scare the other piglin away. He needed to go, he  _ knew  _ what happened to zombified piglin, he had faced it before and he only survived because Phil was there and he needed to get out he  _ needed  _ to and-

-a bowl of soup was pushed into his lap, making Techno stop dead in his tracks. 

“What?” He asked, so confused that he momentarily forgot that piglins didn’t speak English. 

He made direct eye contact with  _ another  _ piglin (this one was so small, it  _ must _ be a baby) who gestured to the soup. 

“ **Eat.** ” The baby piglin said, guesturing to the bowl, its squeals high pitched and so very,  _ very _ young. 

“ **No,** ” Technoblade said. He needed Phil, not mushroom soup!

“ **Show how?** ” the baby piglin asked, and took the bowl out of his hands. The baby piglin made sure Techno was watching when it took a little sip. “ **You. Eat.** ” 

The bowl was handed back to Techno, and the warrior took a tentative sip. The baby pigling squealed in joy, clapping its hands and running in circles. Techno couldn’t understand what it was saying, but assumed it was happy he was eating. The brute piglin and regular sized piglin also looked happy he was eating. The brute piglin set Techno down on the pile of blankets. 

“ **Name?** ” The piglin asked, pointing to Techno. Techno hesitated. He couldn’t remember his piglin name. 

“Technoblade.” He answered, not knowing if it transferred into the native language. 

“ **Name?** ” He repeated, the word odd on his tongue as he pointed at the three. Each said a name, foreign to his ears and sounding like grunts and squeals, and Techno sighed. “I guess I’ll never know.”

The baby piglin (a good name for a baby was… Baby, right?) pointed to the soup, and Techno sipped it, ignoring the slightly ashy taste that came with all foods eaten in the nether. He stared the large piglin down again (he looked like a brute, so that would be a justifiable name), taking another long, drawn out sip. 

“ **Sleep.** ” The normal sized piglin said, taking the half-eaten soup and putting it to the side. 

Techno scowled, laying his head down on the soft wool and glaring at the three. He didn’t need to sleep, he needed to go back to Phil and figure out what was going on! He didn’t think that piglins could zombify twice. 

“ **Sleep!** ” The baby pigling squealed, and laid next to Techno, burying itself in the blankets. 

“Uh, no thanks.” Techno said, staring at the baby. The baby stared back, innocent. Techno sighed, his eyes heavy. 

Before he could even discourage Baby to leave, he was fast asleep. 

\---

Phil entered the Nether, nerves strung and his heart pounding. 

“I’m worried.” Philza said. 

"I'm not." Tommy said, clearly very worried. 

"He hasn't answered any of my texts." Wilbur frowned, smacking his communicator as if it would make Techno respond. 

“He’s probably fine.” Tommy huffed, wiping the sweat from his brow. He glanced around the nether, taking note of the endless glare of red. The nether didn’t have many other colours, so a glint of gold easily caught Tommy’s eye. 

“Oh sick, gold ore.” Tommy said, pumping his fist and taking out a pickaxe. He rounded the corner and froze, eyes widening. Techno’s sword, gilded with enchantments, lay on the ground beside his crown, currently being held by a small piglin. Tommy stared at the piglin (there was no  _ possible _ way Techno was taken down by a child, right?) for a moment longer than he should’ve, frozen with shock. The piglin snorted at him, and Tommy screamed. 

“GIVE HIS CROWN BACK YOU  _ SON-OF-A _ **_-BITCH_ ** _! _ ” Tommy yelled, drawing his own sword and abandoning his pickaxe. The piglin startled and booked it, scurrying away as fast as possible. 

“Tommy!” Phil cried, voice muffled by the heavy air. “Tommy, wait!” 

Tommy, never being one to listen anyways, ignored Phil and chased after the small piglin, cursing and shouting every time he stumbled. 

“Oh my god,” Wilbur said, hands tugging at his hair as he watched Tommy and the small piglin disappear into the red fog, “Techno has been turned into a child! Tommy’s gonna kill tiny Techno!”

“ What?” Phil said, genuinely confused about how Wilbur came to that conclusion. “No, that’s not Techno. That piglin has a different snout. “

“What?!”

“I have baby pictures! We need to follow them, let’s go!” 

Phil grabbed Techno’s sword from the ground, holding it lightly as he gave chase after Tommy and the small piglin. Wilbur stood for a moment, wondering to himself how he got into this scenario, and followed the others into the depth of the nether. 

The chase was relentless, the nether air burning Tommy’s lungs. It’s ashy taste made him feel sick, and he couldn’t see very far in front of him, making it difficult to follow the baby piglin through the netherrack. 

“Fuck!” Tommy cried, tripping over a piece of quartz and crashing to the ground shoulder first. He stumbled to his feet, turning wildly to try and see where the piglin went. Involuntary tears filled his eyes from both pain and stress. The piglin was nowhere to be seen.

“Goddammit!” Tommy kicked the piece of quartz, sending it flying. He had lost the piglin, which meant he had lost Techno. He buried his head in his hands, taking a shuddering breath. A small, shrill squeal sounded from a nearby place to his left, and Tommy whipped his head in that direction. A small, ruined Bastion stood a dozen blocks away, and Tommy saw a glint of moving gold from the inside. He hadn’t lost Techno at all, it seemed. 

Gripping his sword tightly, Tommy entered the Bastion. He was very aware he wasn’t wearing any armor, so Tommy grit his teeth and crouched, trying to avoid making any noise. His communicator pinged, and Tommy glanced at it. 

**[ Private Conversation With: WilburSoot, TommyInnit ]**

**[ 10:13 AM ] WilburSoot:** _ Tommy where are you? _

**[ 10:13 AM ] WilburSoot:** _ Send me your coods!! _

**[ 10:14 AM ] TommyInnit:** _ 110 74 -874 _

**[ 10:14 AM ] WilburSoot:** _ Please wait for us! Don’t do anything stupid! _

Tommy snorted at Wilbur’s last message before tucking the communicator away and going further into the dark hallway. 

“I never do anything stupid,” Tommy muttered to himself. “I’m always super smart and super amazing.” 

The hallway was quiet, and Tommy frowned. There should be a few rooms or piglins or  _ something _ , the general calm of the Bastion was getting on Tommy’s nerves. He wanted to find Techno and get out of the creepy area. It was then Tommy noticed a soft light around the bend in the hallway. Soft snorting sounds could be heard, and Tommy grinned to himself. 

“Hell yeah,” He muttered and moved forwards. His communicator pinged, and Tommy switched it to mute. 

Creeping forwards, Tommy peered into the room. Three piglins stood surrounding an unmoving figure on the ground, snorting quietly among themselves. Tommy slipped into the room, teeth bared and knuckles white around the handle of his sword. He recognized the figure on the ground, the familiar red, fur lined cape wrapped around Techno. Tommy couldn’t tell if there was blood but knew that Techno must be injured, because Technoblade  _ never  _ dies and would  _ never _ be caught defeated. The piglins must have knocked him out. Techno couldn’t be dead.

Snarling, Tommy watched the baby piglin put the crown on its head, snorting and squealing excitedly as it danced around. Anger clouded Tommy’s vision. They knock Techno down and then  _ mock  _ him? Tommy saw red and screamed, racing forwards with his sword raised. 

“YOU  **_FUCKERS!_ ** GIVE ME MY BROTHER BACK!” Tommy slashed at the closest Piglin (the normal sized one) and missed. Too angry to care, Tommy yelled again, raising his blade to slash at the baby piglin, who squealed and hid behind Techno’s unmoving form. Tommy’s sword hit the ground, missing Techno by a few centimetres. 

“Fuck you!” Tommy yelled, flipping off the baby piglin. He would get that one later when he was certain he wouldn’t hurt Techno. He raises the sword again and-

Large hands grab Tommy’s wrists, stopping the sword above Tommy’s head. 

“Hey!” Tommy shouted, trying to wiggle from the grip. “Fuck off! Let me go!” 

A low, deep growl came from behind him, and Tommy promptly remembered that there was a brute piglin in the room as well. Tommy also remembered that he wasn’t wearing any armor. The sword was ripped from Tommy’s hand, and Tommy choked on his breath as he was picked up and slammed into a wall. The brute snarled, tusks gleaming in the dull light. 

Tommy’s eyes widened, fear flooding his mind. In a moment of panic, he bit the piglin’s arm. The piglin seemed more surprised then hurt, but dropped him regardless. Tommy slipped from the brute’s grip and scrambled for his sword. His legs were swiped out from under him and Tommy  _ screamed _ as he was picked up again, lifted far above the brute’s head. Struggling, Tommy’s breath quickened as the brute made its way to the window. He was going to be thrown out the window and Techno was unconscious on the ground and there was  _ nothing _ he could do.

Squirming as the window loomed closer, Tommy’s breath stopped. He desperately clawed at the windows edge, a fingernail catching in the rock and being torn off. The brute snarled again, holding Tommy outside the window, and without hesitation, dropping him. 

Tommy screamed as his body fell, scrambling to find a handhold. By some miracle, the blonde grabbed the edge of the window ledge, the sudden stop jolting his whole body. Gasping for breath, Tommy blinked away the tears in his vision and glanced down, adrenaline racing through his body. The Bastion was on a cliff face, a large lava lake encircling the building. Tommy had failed to notice this before, assuming it was carved into netherrack as the front entrance had been. He could feel the heat of the lava.

“Tommy!” Tommy turned his head to the right, seeing Wilbur and Phil standing by the entrance of the Bastion, looking horrified. “Tommy, hold on! We're coming!” 

“I can’t!” Tommy shouted back, and it was true. Blood covered the hand that the fingernail broke off of, making it slippery. His wrists and arms ached from the brute, and Tommy gasped when his hand slipped. The lava bubbled below him, burning his ankle. 

“I’m coming Tommy! Hold on!” Philza yelled, and disappeared into the entrance of Bastion. Wilbur followed with no hesitation.

“No, no! I’m sorry, I won’t attack again! Please help me up,  _ please-”  _ Tommy begged, hoping the piglin was still close and could space some mercy. Surely it wouldn’t let him  _ actually _ die, right? Who was he kidding, Tommy was lucky he didn't get an axe to his chest. He desperately tried to grab onto the ledge again, missing. 

“I’m sorry!” Tommy shouted, turning to where Phil and Wilbur stood before, hoping his voice would carry to them. His fingers were cramped, and Tommy closed his eyes, preparing himself for the slow death that was to come. He had failed everyone. His fingers slipped further and Tommy exhaled, letting gravity work and avoiding fate any longer-

Two strong hands grasped his wrist, stopping his fall. Tommy’s eyes flew open, and he looked up to see a very pale, but otherwise conscious Technoblade. 

“Technoblade!” Tommy laughed, slightly unhinged. 

Techno shouted something, turning his head back towards the room, the snorts and squeals that came out of his mouth were foriegn to Tommy. Techno wasn't talking to him, but adjusted his stance and pulled Tommy upwards. Tommy grabbed onto the ledge and scrambled back onto solid ground, all but collapsing onto his brother as they hit the ground.

“Techno,” Tommy said breathlessly, bumping his forehead against the piglin’s. That's when he noticed Techno was  _ burning,  _ sweat coating his brow and green patches of skin starting to creep up his face from his neck. “Techno? You’re… green?” 

“Always observant, Tommy.” Techno laughed weakly, letting his head hit the ground softly. He closed his eyes and shivered violently. 

"Techno- hey!" Tommy yelped in shock as he was picked up by the scruff of his shirt.

His stomach dropped as the thought of being thrown out the window was reintroduced to him. The brute slammed Tommy against the wall, the teen gasping for air. The brute snarled, raising it's gold axe high above its head, and Tommy realized it was finishing the job it failed earlier. Closing his eyes and turning his head away, Tommy waited for the blow to come. There was a loud whistling as the axe fell, and- 

**_Thunk_ ** . 

Hands left his body and Tommy found himself pinned to the wall by his shirt and the axe, hovering a few metres above the ground. 

"Are you  _ fucking serio- _ " Tommy was cut off by another snarl, the brute leaning in. 

Forced to look straight into his attempted murderer's eyes, Tommy found himself surprised by the look on the brute piglin's face. Before it had been murderous, and now it seemed  _ annoyed _ with the scenario. It wasn't unlike Phil's face when Tommy fucked up and needed some parental correction. The brute snorted, and Tommy froze. He couldn't understand the language, but the message was clear. 

" **_Stay here."_ **

Satisfied with it's work, the brute piglin turned and made its way to Techno's shivering form. Tommy caught sight of his brother only for a brief moment. Techno was curled in on himself, shivering and dubiously conscious. 

"Techno…" Tommy muttered, feeling absolutely helpless. 

Tommy watched as the baby piglin struggled to pull a woolen blanket over Techno while the other piglin picked up Tommy's sword. It stared at Tommy for a moment before sighing and picking up the baby piglin. Tommy watched, breath catching, as the brute wrapped Techno in the blanket with extreme gentleness and lifted him. 

The normal piglin squealed, and left the room with the baby in its arms. The brute gave Tommy a long, glaring stare. Tommy, with morbid fascination, could only keep his eyes on Techno, swaddled like a baby in the blankets. He looked incredibly small, shaking with his fever, his brow furrowed in a restless sleep. The green seemed to spread from his neck and creep onto his face, and Tommy choked on his emotions as he watched the brute leave the room, closing the iron door and barring it with his own sword. 

“I think,” Tommy said, taking a sharp breath as he recollected on what happened, “I fucked up.”

\---

Techno wasn’t really awake when he heard yelling. His mind screamed at him to get up and  _ do  _ something, people were  _ screaming _ , but his body was too damn heavy to move. Groaning, Techno wearily blinked his eyes open. The sounds of fighting continued, and he couldn’t even flinch when a weapon hit the ground dangerously close to his body. He felt a small, warm object scurry behind him, crouching in the folds of his cape. If Techno bothered to listen, he would’ve thought the yelling sounded like Tommy. 

“Fuck off! Let me go!”

Ah, it  _ was _ Tommy. 

Wait, what was Tommy doing in the nether? Techno forced himself to sit up, wincing when Tommy yelled. He rubbed his eyes, watching as as Brute picked up Tommy and carried him to the open window- 

Techno stumbled to his feet, adrenaline coursing through his bones and fear making his heart ache. Tommy looked desperate, grasping at the window’s edges for some sort of handhold. 

“ **NO!** ” Techno yelled, sprinting towards the window. Brute was going to  _ drop Tommy. _

Tommy’s blood curdling scream filled the air as he was dropped, and Techno raced to the window, slamming into the chest of Brute, who blocked the way. 

“ **Not safe.** ” Brute huffed. 

**“Yes safe!** ” Techno shouted, shoulder checking Brute. It wasn’t his best work, but the larger piglin was surprised enough by the fight that it stepped to the side. Techno saw Tommy’s hand slip, his fingernails digging into the blackstone. Techno dove for Tommy’s wrist, gripping it with as much force as he could, his knuckles white. Tommy looked up, tears streaming down his face. 

“Technoblade!” He cried out, letting out a breathless, slightly unhinged laugh. 

“ **Not safe!** ” A piglin behind Techno yelled, snarling. 

“ **Safe!** ” Techno yelled back, staring into his brother’s eyes. Tommy was too young to look this scared. “ **Home! He is** **_home_ ** **.** ”

Shifting his weight, Techno placed his foot against the window and heaved, pulling Tommy up and through the sill. Tommy scrambled onto solid ground, falling over the edge and landing on top Techno, the two a large pile on the floor.

“Techno,” Tommy said, and Techno smiled lazily, his vision blurring. The adrenaline was fading, and his head was filled with cotton. Everything was blurry and thick. God, everything _ hurt.  _

“Techno? You’re… green?” Tommy said, and Techno let his head fall to the ground, the sensation of bone meeting stone making his head throb more.

“Always observant, Tommy.” Techno let out a breathy chuckle, closing his eyes and letting unconsciousness seep over his senses.

He felt the vague movement of Tommy’s weight being removed off him, and then nothing else.

\---

Philza tore through the Bastion, Wilbur hot on his heels. He slammed into the blackstone at the corner, quickly adjusting his pace and running to the vague area Tommy was at. 

“Look!” Wilbur said, pointing to a large iron door, barred with a diamond sword. 

“Tommy?” Philza yelled, praying that Tommy was trapped in the room and not incinerated in lava. He slammed his fists against the iron door. “Tommy!”

A muffled yell came from inside. 

“That’s him!” Wilbur let out a choked laugh, pulling at the sword to remove it from it’s jammed position. 

Grabbing onto the bars of the sword while his son grabbed the handle, Phil and Wilbur struggled against the diamond, slowly getting it to budge. A large screech sounded, and the sword gave way, sending Phil and Wilbur to the ground with the sudden lack of resistance. 

“We’re here Tommy!” Wilbur yelled, jumping to his feet and unlatching the door. 

Wrenching open the door, Wilbur raced inside to see Tommy struggling against the large axe that pinned him to the wall. His shirt torn and hand bloody, Tommy looked terrified, but  _ alive. _

“Oh my god,” Phil said, racing to Tommy’s aid. “Wilbur, come help me.”

“What the hell were you thinking, you jackass? You almost died!” Wilbur frowned, taking a small hunting knife from his pocket and cutting away at Tommy’s shirt, allowing the teen to fall gracelessly to the ground, the axe still in the wall. 

“Sorry,” Tommy said, looking exhausted. Tear marks stained his ashy face, and Wilbur couldn’t help feeling bad for him. 

“We’ll talk about this later,” Phil said sternly before dropping to his knees and wrapping Tommy in a large hug. Tommy gripped Phil tightly, his hands leaving bloodstains on Phil’s shirt. 

“I’m so sorry,” Tommy whispered. 

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Phil said, exhaling softly, his muscles relaxing. “Now, what happened?”

“Techno’s here,” Tommy said. “I followed that little bitch baby here and Techno- he’s really sick Phil, he was green and sweaty and shit- but Techno was here! There were two other piglins too! A big fucker and a normal one and the big bastard picked me up and-”   
  


“Wait- green?” Phil interrupted, his brows furrowing. 

“Piglin’s only turn green when they’re zombies.” Wilbur said, sudden realization dawning on his face. 

“Tommy, are you sure it was the colour green?” Phil asked, pale. 

“Uh yeah,” Tommy said, looking uncomfortable. “It was all over his hands and face when he saved me at the window.” 

“Oh my god,” Wilbur said weakly, covering his mouth. “Oh my _ god. _ ”

Wilbur never thought it could happen to Technoblade (strong, powerful, Technoblade), but watching Phil go pale told him all he needed to know.    
  


“Phil, you knew this was going to happen?” He asked, running a hand through his messy hair. 

“No! No, it can’t be happening.” Phil said. “Piglins only zombify once, that's how I found Techno when he was a baby! It was so long ago, and I don’t know, it shouldn’t be happening again-”

Phil cut off his own sentence with a soft huff.

“We need to find him,” Phil said, shaking his head. “I healed him before and I can heal him again,”

“But the other piglins…?” Tommy said, suddenly coming to a realization. “Oh my god! I thought they were kidnapping him, they must’ve been taking care of him! The big fucker picked Techno up like a little baby, and he was wrapped in a shit ton of blankets! They must know he’s sick!”

"That's good, right?” Wilbur asked. 

“I don’t know,” said Phil. “But we need to find them. They must’ve gone further down the hallway.”

Standing and helping Tommy to his feet, Phil frowned. 

“Tommy, are you going to be okay?” 

“I’ll be okay.” Tommy said, looking very much not okay. Phil took his word for it anyways, knowing doting on the teen wouldn’t help Techno. 

“Okay. Stay behind me. I don’t remember a lot of piglin-”

“You speak piglin?!” Wilbur said, exasperated.

“-But what I remember should be enough. Let’s go.”

The three left the room, Phil leading the group and Tommy trailing a few steps behind Wilbur. Thankfully, the blackstone hallway didn’t go on much longer, ending with a large iron door, similar to the one Tommy had just been trapped behind. It wasn’t closed and Phil creeped closer, pressing his body against the door. He could catch parts of the conversation. 

“ **... attacked him, said he … home…** ”

“ **... sleep more? Very sick…** ”

“. **.. soup help? Did soup…?”**

“ **...Yes, yes. Soup helped…** ”

Creaking open the door, Phil took a tentative step in, raising his hands to show he was weapon free. The three piglins stared at him, the smallest hiding behind Techno’s unmoving form and the largest grabbing an axe that wasn’t there.

“ **Hello.** ” Phil said. It had been so long since he spoke piglin he was sure his accent was terrible. 

“ **... Hello.** ” The regular piglin said, shocked that Phil was speaking in their native language. 

“ **You have my family.** ” Phil said, and gestured to Techno. 

“ **Your family?”** The brute snarled. “ **You not piglin.”**

Phil let out a breathless laugh at that. The piglin wasn’t wrong. 

“Technoblade... “ He paused, trying to think of the best words. “Technoblade **was baby when he became family.** **He was sick.** ”

“ **Sick?** ” The baby piglin squealed, peaking around Techno’s cape. “ **Like now?** ”

“ **Like now,** ” Phil confirmed. 

“What the fuck are they saying?” Tommy said, voice muffled behind the door. 

“Why would I know?” Wilbur rebutted. 

“ **Who with you?** ” Brute snarled, on edge.

“ **Family.** ” Phil said, taking a gentle step backwards to the door. “ **See?** ”

Pushing gently against the door to open it, Phil let the light of the room illuminate Wilbur and Tommy. Tommy paled at seeing Brute, taking an unconscious step behind Wilbur. Wilbur gave a small, awkward wave to the piglins, eyes widening when his gaze landed on Techno. 

“Techno!” Wilbur said, taking a step forward. Brute snarled, and Wilbur froze. 

Techno groaned from his spot on the ground, shifting ever so slightly. It caught the attention of everyone. 

“Phil?” The piglin muttered, sounding out of breath. 

“Technoblade! I’m here.” Phil said, smiling warmly. 

“ **Family?** ” The baby asked. 

“Phil?” Techno called again, rolling onto his back. “Phil?”

“I’m here, I’m coming.” Phil said, taking a tentative step forward. The brute and regular piglin shared a glance, taking a step to the side to let Phil through. 

“Stay here,” Phil warned Wilbur and Tommy, who both nodded. 

Phil crossed the few steps it took to reach Techno’s side, dropping to his knees. 

“Techno…”

Phil rolled the eldest to his back, wincing at the state of the warrior. Techno’s gaze was heavy, the piglin staring at nothing. His brow was covered in sweat, the fever making Techno shiverer violently. Green creeped up the sides of his face, and Phil noted with great relief that it wasn’t rotting flesh. 

_ He’s not zombifying.  _ Phil could’ve wept at the realization. 

“I’m here Techno.” Phil said quietly, brushing some hair from his face. “I’m here.”

“Phil…” Techno muttered, struggling to make eye-contact. “I think… I’m sick…”

“Yeah bud,” Phil laughed despite himself. “You certainly are.”

“ **You know the sickness?** ” Piglin asked. 

“ **No,** ” Phil admitted, gently using his sleeve to wipe sweat from Techno’s brow. “ **But I can fix.** ”

“ **Have this?** ” Baby asked, scampering to Phil’s side. A bowl of mushroom soup was placed in his lap, and Phil smiled gently. “ **Help sick?** ”

“ **Thank you. It does.** ”

“Phil?” Wilbur asked from the door. “Is he okay?”

"No," Phil admitted. "But I think he will be. Do either of you have a gapple?" 

"Yeah, actually. I do." Wilbur said, pulling the Golden Apple from his inventory. He looked at Brute and Piglin, getting a nod from the two before moving forwards and handing Phil the Golden Apple. 

Kneeling by his brothers side, Wilbur looked over Techno, clearly worried. 

"Phil, we have to take him home." He said. 

"I don't think we'll be allowed to," Phil looked at the piglins surrounding him. 

" **I need to take** Technoblade  **home.** " Phil said, staring at Piglin. 

" **He home.** " Baby said cheerfully, snuggling up to Techno's side. 

" **The overworld is dangerous.** " Brute snarled. 

" **You can not leave.** " Piglin confirmed. 

Phil stared at them. It would be so much easier if he could take Techno back to the cottage and nurse him to health there, but his hands were tied. 

" **Okay. But I stay here.** " Phil said. The piglins nodded. 

"Phil?" Tommy asked from the doorway. "Phil, what's going on? What's happening with Techno?" 

"I'm going to stay here and nurse Techno back to health." Phil said. 

"What?" Wilbur startled, staring at Phil like he was crazy. "Phil, that could be  _ days. _ "

"Phil, that's crazy!" Tommy yelled, taking a few steps into the room but stopping when Brute glared at him. 

"I know." Phil said, looking at both the boys. "I'm going to need your help." 

\---

Techno didn't know where he was, all he knew was he was warm and everything hurt. He heard whispers of speech, both piglin and English in nature, but his head throbbed to much to try and  decipher what was being spoken. 

He heard Phil's voice once or twice, and relief swept over him. He was safe. He was going to be okay. 

"Phil?" 

"Hi, Techno. Eat this for me?" 

Techno hummed, opening his eyes and seeing a blurry slice of Golden Apple held to his mouth. He took a tentative bite, stomach churning, but chewed and swallowed it anyways, the slightly metallic taste making him shiver. 

"Techno, another bite please?" Phil asked. 

"...can't…" Techno muttered. The thought of eating made him nauseated. 

"That's okay. Drink this?" Phil asked, pressing a bottle to his lips. 

Techno complied, taking a small sip of the lukewarm milk. 

"Phil?" Techno blinked, Phil's face wavering in and out of view. 

"Yes?" 

"I'm tired."

"Sleep now, it'll be okay." 

Techno closed his eyes again, falling asleep within moments. 

\---

The next time he woke, Techno felt like shit, but arguably much better then he did before. His head throbbed and his body ached but he was actually lucid this time around. He peeled a few blankets off himself, slowly sitting up and glancing around. Baby was curled in-between his legs like a cat, sound asleep. Techno didn't see Phil or any of his brothers, but Piglin was sitting across the room, staring absentmindedly out the window. 

" **Hello?** " Techno said, his voice much quieter than he anticipated. Piglin turned, surprised, and looked pleased to Techno awake. 

" **You awake. How you feeling?** " Piglin asked, moving to Techno's side. 

Techno paused, trying to get the right words with his limited vocabulary. 

" **Bad and good.** " The piglin laughed at that. 

" **Where is home?** " Techno asked, hoping Piglin would understand his question. He could've sworn Phil was here. 

The piglin said a word Techno didn't understand, but sounded vaguely familiar. 

" **Home?** " Techno repeated, pointing to Piglin and then to Baby. 

Piglin repeated the word, pointed to itself and then Baby. Techno repeated the word. 

" **Family?** " 

" **Family.** " 

Ah.  _ That's _ how it was said. 

" **Where family?** " Techno repeated, the new word awkward on his tounge. 

" **Gone. Family get-** " Piglin said a few words that Techno had no hope of understanding. " **Be back soon.** " 

Techno nodded like he understood **.**

\--- 

Wilbur was exhausted but determined. The last few days had been tiring since finding Techno. 

The first day, Phil stayed with Techno while Wilbur took Tommy back to the cottage, bandaging his wounds and comforting his brother. Since then, he was either transporting potions, milk, soup and apples to Phil, or staying by Techno's side while Phil rested. 

The cycle repeated every day since, Wilbur quickly losing track of time and being familiar with the odd rhythm that had taken over his week. 

Today was no different, Wilbur humming to himself as he rounded the corner to the Bastion. The piglins were taking care of Techno for a few hours while he and Phil had gone home and slept. 

Reaching the bend in the hallway, Wilbur paused, hearing yelling from Techno's makeshift room. 

More concerningly, it was  _ Techno _ who was yelling. Bursting into a sprint, Wilbur flung himself into the room, Techno's yelling reaching a crescendo. 

"You guys don't even know about potatoes! POTATOES!" 

Wilbur took in the scene in front of him. Brute, Piglin and Baby all stood around Techno, who laid face down on the ground. They seemed to be admiring a drawing, carved into the dirt with a rouge stick. Moving closer, Wilbur snorted a laugh. Crude drawings of Techno's potato war were sketched onto the ground. The drawings included what Willbur  _ assumed _ was Techno dancing in front of his defeated enemy, and potatoes flying in the background like confetti. A larger drawing was of a potato, much more detailed than the small ovals in the other drawing. There was another drawing of a potato field, a few arrows pointing to various parts of the field, and Wilbur assumed Techno had been trying to teach the piglins about what potatoes were and how they grew. 

"Techno, I don't think they have potatoes in the nether." Wilbur said, and Techno turned his head so his face was no longer squished into the floor. 

"Wilbur! Will,  _ please _ tell me you have a potato on you! I'm going insane, Wilbur! They don't  _ know  _ about potatoes, which means they don't understand how amazing my victory against squid-kid is!" 

"Alas, all I have is soup, potions and golden apples." Wilbur said. "I'll make Tommy include a potato in Phil's bag when he swaps out with me." 

"Good. Wilbur, this is of the utmost importance." 

Wilbur laughed, sitting cross-legged next to the drawings and patting Techno's head. Baby crawled into Wilbur's lap, snorting something in its language before snuggling further into Wilbur's jacket. Wilbur absentmindedly patted Baby on the head. 

"I'm certain it is."

\---

Techno felt a lot better. Apparently he looked a lot better too, Phil commenting that the green spread had settled to chicken-pox-like dots on his face. Techno could no longer see the green on his hands and assumed it to be true. 

His head wasn’t as blurry and his body didn’t ache as much. He was still exhausted, sure, but Techno could rest at home. God, Techno missed his  _ home.  _ Brute, Piglin and Baby were great, don’t get him wrong, but Techno wanted to be back in the little cottage with Phil, Wilbur and Tommy. He wanted peppermint tea made with a little too much honey, not lukewarm milk and potions that had been heated with the nether air.

Techno sighed, and Brute shot him a concerned look. 

“ **Sick?** ” Brute asked, gently placing down his axe. 

“ **No,** ” Techno said, the piglin language coming much easier than it did a week ago. “ **Want home.** ” 

The brute paused at this sentence, trying to piece it together. “ **You are home?** ”

Techno gave a small laugh at that. “ **No, no.** Phil  **home.** Wilbur  **home.** Tommy  **home** .”

Brute grunted in thought, standing and looming over Techno. “ **Home!** ”

In a smooth movement, Techno found himself on Brute’s lap, being embraced in a large, warm hug. 

“Oh,” Techno said. “ _ Oh. _ No,  **no,** not this home.  **No this home.** ” 

Brute huffed, squeezing Techno tighter. 

“ **Home! No sad. You home.** ”

“Are you serious?” Techno sighed, more to himself than anything. He liked the nether, and he liked Brute, Piglin and Baby, but he needed to leave. “C’mon Brute,  **I need** to **go home** .” 

Brute grunted something, seeming satisfied with the situation. Techno couldn’t leave if he was in a hug, and that seemed to work just fine for Brute. Techno sighed, scratching his cheek absentmindedly. The iron door clanked, and caught both Brute and Techno’s attention. 

“Hello,” Phil said, entering the room. “I’m here! And I have-”

“Philza!” Techno said, excitement slipping into his voice. “Phil, give me a hand? Brute won’t let me go.”

“I can see that,” Phil laughed, sitting next to the two. “Where are you trying to go?”

“I wanted to go back to the cottage.” Techno admitted. “I want to sleep in my own bed.”

“Oh,” Phil said. “That’s fair. Let me talk to Piglin and arrange it?”

“Arrange it?!” Techno scoffed. “Phil, I don’t live here! There’s nothing to arrange!” 

Brute gave Techno a tighter squeeze. 

“I know that, but it seems that Brute doesn’t.” Phil smiled, digging into his bag and pulling out some potions. 

“Drink these, I’ll go talk to Piglin. He was in the other room with Baby.”   


  
Phil handed the potions to Techno, the piglin maneuvering his arms around Brute’s hug to grab the bottles. He uncorked one, chugging it, and made a face at the taste. 

“Sip it, Techno.” Phil warned. 

“No.” Techno said, sneering at Phil before uncorking the second bottle.

“Alright then, enjoy your heartburn. I’m going to talk to Piglin.” Phil stood and stretched, bones popping. 

Ignoring Techno’s mumbled complaints, Phil left, closing the door gently behind him. Entering the hallway, he ran into Piglin, Baby trailing close behind. 

Gently scooping Baby into his arms, Phil smiled gently at the little piglin, booping it’s snout and giving it a small kiss on the head. He faced Piglin again, a gentle, almost sad smile on his face. 

**“It’s time for Technoblade to come home.** ”

\---

Technoblade, unsurprisingly, did not go home. Piglin was insistent that he stayed until his fever was completely gone, and so Techno stayed, wrapped in blankets and napping the hours away. It wasn’t uncommon for Baby to cuddle next to him, waking him accidentally with a hoof to the face. 

Today was no different, a small foot to his lower back causing Techno to wake from his slumber. 

“Ugh, Baby.” Techno groaned, pulling his cape over his eyes to block the light. 

“ **Soup?** ” Baby snorted, and Techno sighed. Apparently the kick had been purposeful, waking Techno to eat. 

“ **No soup. No hungry.** ” Techno said, rolling over. He heard a small pattering of hooves. 

“ **Soup? Eat?** ” Baby said again. Techno pried an eye open, staring directly into Baby’s face. The small piglin was holding a bowl. 

“ **No.** ” Techno replied stubbornly, rolling over again and-

Baby’s face was in his gaze instantly, as if the small piglin teleported with his gaze. 

“Huh?” Techno said, sitting up. There Baby was, holding a bowl of soup. Techno whipped his head to look to where Baby had  _ just  _ been, and saw Baby there too. 

“Oh god,” Techno said, patting his forehead. “I gotta be feverish. There's two Baby’s!”

“ **Soup?** ” Right-side Baby said, holding a bowl. 

“ **Eat?** ” Left-side Baby cooed, placing it’s bowl in Techno’s lap. It was then Techno noticed a  _ third _ Baby at his feet, also holding a soup bowl. 

“What is goin’ on?” Techno said, confused. All these baby piglins couldn't be Baby, could they?

“ **Eat soup!** ” Right-side Baby said cheerfully. “ **Bring friends, eat soup!** ” 

“ **You are friends?** ” Techno asked, pointing at feet-Baby and left-Baby. Right-Baby nodded, placing a second soup bowl on Techno’s lap. 

Sipping the soup placed in his lap and staring at the Babys, Techno noted that left-Baby had a small cut in its ear, and foot-baby had an entirely different looking snout, meaning that they  weren’t Baby at all. By the process of elimination, that meant Right-Baby had to be  _ his  _ Baby. 

Humming with that thought, Techno took another sip of the soup, deciding not to overthink this process. The soup was mushroom, as always, and slightly warmer than the air around him. He watched, slightly amused, as Baby and feet-Baby also took a sip of their soups. Left-Baby, whose soup Techno was currently drinking, mimicked the motion of eating.

"Huh," Techno took another sip of his soup, watching Left-Baby mimic the action. Feet-Baby and Baby took a sip as well. 

"Oh my god," Techno said with a sudden realization. "You're gonna force me to eat!  **You make me eat?** " 

Baby and it's friend giggled, squealing to themselves about their plan. Techno gave a small huff, refusing them the satisfaction of a laugh, and swallowed another mouthful of soup, feeling warm from the inside out. 

\---

Philza watched the scene in front of him with a small twinge of guilt. It had been two weeks since Techno had fallen ill, and Phil had realized a few important things in that time frame. 

The first is that Phil did not have a very good understanding of piglin biology or immune systems, and neither did anyone else. Now, Phil had already known this when he helped heal  Technoblade years ago. He remembered pouring over book after book, desperately scanning the text as a tiny, sick Techno had whimpered through his feverish dreams, green rotting his skin. Phil had thought the worst illness had passed when the small piglin child had woken with clear skin and alert eyes, immediately causing chaos. Phil had started writing with the intent of creating his own medical logs, but as the years passed and Techno grew and remained healthy, the half-written books gathered dust. 

The second thing, Phil realized, was the Techno was extremely little when he had followed Phil through the portal. He must’ve been younger then Baby, who ran with confidence where Techno had stumbled to walk. Techno was  _ tiny _ when he first crashed into Phil’s life, his speech incoherent and actions jumbled. 

A loud laugh struck Phil from his thoughts. He watched Techno, unburdened by illness and the weight of his daily life, move erratically, trying to copy the strange dance moves Piglin was showing him. Baby said something, pausing it’s drumming only for a moment. Techno snorted something back, Phil’s understanding of the piglin language too weak to follow the conversation. Brute nodded it’s head, seemingly in contemplation before stepping forwards and physically moving Techno’s arms, copying the movements Piglin had just made. Techno laughed again, smiling widely. 

The third thing that Phil had realized was that Techno knew nothing of his culture. He had been raised human; his guttural piglin being replaced with smooth english, his stance shifting to compensate for human clothes and shoes, and Phil had done all of it. He had shown Techno human weapons, human food and human dances. Unintentionally, in trying to save Techno, Phil had destroyed the piglin part of warrior. 

Techno’s piglin had an accent, words as unfamiliar on his tongue as it was on Tommy’s. He never danced, something Brute, Piglin and Baby loved to do. He wore gold to protect himself, not to decorate or pronounce his status as was common among piglins. He never experienced piglin food, parties or courtship.    
  


The mixed feelings Phil held were immense. The soft glow of torches bounced off the four piglin’s forms, sending the shadows to dance as they did. Brute and Piglin seemed pleased with the small, awkward dance Techno was doing, Baby hitting the small drum in the corner at a steady pace. Techno wiped some sweat off his brow, gesturing wildly as grunts and snorts left his mouth. He was much more confident in the language now then he had been when he had first gotten sick. Phil wondered what he was saying. He wished he had learnt more. Techno, not knowing Phil’s current track of thoughts, left the small dance party and sat beside him, picking up the water bottle at Phil’s side and draining it. 

Phil smiled when Techno looked at him. 

“Hi,” Techno said. 

“Hello,” Phil replied. 

“You look sad, Philza Minecraft.” Techno commented. Baby changed the pattern of the drum, the steady beats becoming faster. Brute started a new dance, a wild sequence of leg movements Phil could never even dream of following. 

“I’m not sad, Technoblade.” Phil said. “I’m just watching you dance. You never learnt as a kid, I didn’t know any piglin dances to teach you.” 

“I mean, why would you?” Techno asked.

“What?”

“Why would you know what dances were important or native to piglins?” Techno asked, tilting his head slightly to the side. 

“I don’t know why I would,” Phil admitted. Before Technoblade, all piglins had been mindless mobs to him. 

“Then stop feeling bad about it.” Techno stated. “You raised me the best you could.”

“And look how that turned out,” Phil laughed, bumping shoulders with Techno. 

Before Techno could retort, Piglin bounced up to both of them, snorting something. 

“He wants us both to dance with them.” Techno translated, staring at Phil expectantly. 

“Well, of course I will.” Phil said, pushing himself off the ground and stretching. 

“ **Dance!** ” Baby squealed, smacking the drum in a steady, upbeat rhythm. “ **Dance with friends! Dance, dance, dance!** ”

Phil laughed, taking Piglin’s hand and trying to match Piglin’s unfamiliar and intricate footwork. 

Techno stood as well, his dancing stiff and awkward. Phil smiled and laughed as Brute once again tried to show Techno a piglin dance. 

"Y'know, Phil," Techno said, a large smile on his face as he copied the footwork. "I'm kinda glad I got sick." 

Piglin clapped as he completed the series of steps, Brute letting out a pleased snort and swing Techno into a large hug. 

" **Friends!** " Brute said cheerfully, grinning at Phil with Techno trapped in a hug. 

"I am too." Phil laughed. 

  
  



End file.
